Contemplating Love
by IzzBot
Summary: Will muses about his developing feelings for his best friend. Will he be able to keep them a secret or will Jack figure it out? Slash. WillJack.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: This turned out to be even more babbly than my other fanfic. I don't write these one-shots particularly for the readers- I write them for me. Whenever I feel angsty or depressed I start writing and see where I end up. Surprisingly, I tend to end up with the same sort of story. I'm mostly musing in this, but uploaded just because, I mean, it was written and everything. I will write more Will/Jack ones that aren't one-shots, but after I finish my current stories. So, I guess- enjoy!

Disclaimer: I do not have any rights for Will or Jack; I am just using them for my own purposes.

**Contemplating Love**

Here's the thing, I am in love with my best friend.

This is a problem. I hate that it's a problem. Why do good feelings have to be so muddied up with complications? It's not a bad feeling in itself. It feels like floating, and like all my nerve endings have been charged. It's an exciting feeling. My heart speeds up. And I feel a warmth, starting from my heart and spreading to my fingertips. This isn't even when he is near me, this is just when a simple thought of him floats into my consciousness. When he is around… well, let's just say, that when he's around, my soul fills up to the brim…

And then pain comes. And fear. Why does hurt always follow love?

It started out with just an inkling of feeling. I smiled. A smile in itself is not that uncommon. It was the feeling I had when smiling that caused me to worry. It was love, pure and simple. But I've always loved him, as a friend, so why should this be any different? Because this time it was more than just love. It was an urging. It was indescribable, inexplicable lust. All this from a spasming of muscles in my face.

This moment cannonballed until I was ripping my hair out with confusion. You can't just get feelings, right? We've been friends all these years, why now?

In one day my life flipped upside down, knocking me down. I hated this feeling. I despised it. I wanted to physically rip it out of me. I hate change. To tell you the truth, I am not particularly fond of feelings either. They are messy. And I hate messes.

I am pathetic. I am pathetically in love. I can't get him out of my head. Every little thing reminds me of him. As soon as we part I replay every second of our conversation in my head. I wonder if he's thinking of me, how he's thinking of me. I light up when he walks into the room. My face falls when he leaves. There is no question of whether or not I should tell him. This is going to be a secret. I hope it will go away. These feelings are torturing me, haunting me, casting over me like an obstinate storm cloud.

I hate him. I hate him so much. With every passion-charged fiber of my being I hate him. I hate his mocking laugh and how it is used so often in response to me. I hate his sarcasm, and I especially hate when it makes me laugh so unexpectedly. I hate the way he makes fun of me, to the point of routine. I hate that I secretly live for those jokes. I hate that they make me able to get through my day. I hate his grin when he knows he has gotten to me. And I hate how open he is. How okay with himself he is. Where's his shame? I sure as hell have got some to spare. I hate when he's knowing, when he gets into my head. I hate that he knows me. I hate his flirting and his innuendos. I hate the way he looks when he's sad, like a kicked puppy. And I hate how I feel when it's me that has put that look on his face. I hate that he makes me laugh even when I don't want to. I hate how peaceful he looks when he's sleeping. I hate that I want to kiss him.

He comes in. I look and look. I can't see him anymore. My mind has been jiggled and jumbled into a mess of nerves. He makes a joke… something about me being fat… when I don't retort he comes over. He's looking at me. My heart races wildly. Why does a single look do this to me? I ache for his attention. I ache for his touch and his love. He knows me so well. I HATE that he knows me so damn well. It makes it so incredibly hard to hide.

"Will?"

He asks. Once. Twice. He probably thinks I've had a psychological breakdown. But my voice. I can't speak. I can't even attempt to speak. I am so afraid that the next words out of my mouth will be "I'm in love with you."

I am looking at my hands. Studying the intricate patterns on my fingertips. I can tell Jack is beginning to become nervous. His face is concerned. He crouches down in front of me. I hear him asking me what's wrong. I sit as still as I can. Having the erroneous notion that if I don't respond he'll give up and leave me alone.

Concern has changed to downright anxiety. He wasn't used to having to fix me. I've never been broken. Or I've never let anyone see when I've been broken. Why can't I hide? I'm usually so damn good at it. The cool exterior, the false bravado, the calm demeanor and reassuring voice. I never let my guard down.

But here I was. Putting my fate in someone else's hands.

Jack lifted my face. Peering inquisitively into my eyes. I swam in his eyes. Noticing every change of pigment… dying in his gaze.

He stroked my face. He was so confused. He was so unused to this.

"Will." He repeated. Trying to get me to respond.

I closed my eyes. I felt his lips press against each one of my eyelids, in turn. I shivered. I craved him. I opened my eyes to an even more perplexed Jack. But confusion had never before halted my friend from his actions.

He took my arms and raised me from the chair I was occupying. I reveled in his body heat as he half carried me to the couch. I felt my head being placed in his lap and his soft hands gently stroking my hair. I murmured and hummed, loving his comfort. He sang sweet nonsense and lullabies to me.

I actually fell asleep. This whole thing seemed insane to me. But anything having to do with Jack had its degree of craziness anyway. When I awoke I found Jack awkwardly asleep above me. His chin was resting on his chest and his hair fell in front of his eyes.

I watched as his eyes fluttered open. I smiled up at him. He gazed down at me adoringly and returned the smile. I slowly moved my mouth towards his. Each second my head was telling me to stop. Every second my heart telling me to go on. And as our mouths pressed together I knew I had made the right decision.

A/N: Thank you for reading!!!! This is seriously exactly like my other one-shot, well the plot anyway, I did not even mean to do that. Just started typing. Oh, well. I apologize for the grammar mistakes. I'm not a big fan of sticking to the rules. But besides sentence fragments I don't think I did too badly. PLEASE REVIEW!!!!! I live for them, I breathe for them. If you hated it, tell me. If you loved it, tell me. If you didn't really care either way, tell me. I just want to know people read. And I go on this sight everyday so its torture not seeing any new reviews. If you think this can go on to a second chapter or a sequel, I'll see what I can do. I didn't plan it to be that way, but as I reread it I can think up a few things. I decided against going past the kiss, I didn't think it was the point of the story, but I can always add a chapter. But I won't continue unless people tell me too. Ok, thanks very much!


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I do not own Will or Jack, malheuresement.

Rating: M. Slash.

A/N: I have figured out my muse for these particular stories… and I have a feeling that there will be many more to come… enjoy.

Jack was everything good. He was springtime after a long, harsh winter. He was dawn and dusk. He was rainbows, the light in all the gloom. His innocence, to the point of cluelessness, was compelling. The laughter in his eyes, the life in his voice, the love in his heart, made life bearable. Will already knew all of this. He loved Jack unconditionally and eternally, no matter what stage of their relationship. At this moment, though, Will was eagerly learning a new side of Jack.

He was learning the taste of Jack's lips. The feel of his skin; hot under his touch. The smell of his shampoo, as Jack leaned his head down to lay sweet, lustful kisses down Will's neck. Jack moaned as Will's tongue caressed his bottom lip. They simultaneously shuddered as the kiss deepened. Will knew and understood Jack. But this was new. This was foreign and slightly scary territory for him. But if he were to be vulnerable, to allow a connection, to enter this frightening place, he would want it to be with Jack.

Something changed. For the better. For the worse. Somewhere in their steamy embrace they both realized that two things were definite. One, that their relationship was changed forever. And two, that they were scared out of their minds of the sudden change. Will was the first to pull back.

His face fell as he saw Jack's expression. Utter shock. Will's eyes lowered to the floor, and he hung his head. Why? Why did he have to screw this up? His life was ruined now. His whole relationship with Jack was ruined. He couldn't bear to look into Jack's eyes. But he knew that this was his responsibility. Jack was his responsibility. To take care of, to love, to hold. Until death do we part? Will inwardly chuckled.

"Jack, I…" Will started.

A loud voice, heard through the door, caught him off guard. A loud, woman's voice. Grace. Oh, shit. Now how could he and Jack talk? Will knew one thing for sure- he couldn't let Jack leave. If he left then they would get all awkward and start avoiding each other. Will could not stand the thought of that happening. Without a second's hesitation Will grabbed his friend by his shirt and pulled him into the bathroom.

Jack looked cute when he was completely thrown off. A look of confusion was spread across his fine features; eyebrows drawn together, lips turned into a slight frown. He didn't say a word. Will noticed the irony. It was his turn to take the reigns, to fix the problem. Jack stood in front of him, arms crossed, defensive mode. Will knew that Jack was more vulnerable then he made out to be. Will desperately wanted to protect him, like he had so many times before.

Grace's voice was audible through the thin wood of the bathroom door. She was telling him about her day, despite the fact that he was not in the room and obviously not listening. Will became impatient. Jack was his focus now. The bright eyes were looking at him questioningly, waiting. Will sidled past his friend and turned the shower nozzle. Pounding water drowned out Grace's voice. They could finally talk without his best friend's nosy questions interrupting them. He loved Grace, but now was about him and Jack. This took priority. He finally turned to Jack, ready to speak his mind.

Then.

A knock. Soft. Then a pounding fist. A frustrated kick.

"Will! Are you in there? Can I come in? I need to grab my makeup. Please! It's not like I haven't seen you sans culottes before. You got nothing to hide, babe."

A pause. A giggle. An annoyed sigh.

"I don't care what you say. I'm coming in whether you like it or not."

Crap. Nosy, nosy, nosy. Will wasn't completely ready to talk about his feelings to Jack, let alone to Grace. He couldn't just let her walk in here. She would be curious as to why they were in the bathroom… together… with the shower running. This was a delicate situation. Will wanted to shelter Jack, to keep the situation as controlled as possible.

And the lock didn't work. That didn't help.

Jack's eyebrows raised as Will pushed him behind the thick, veiling shower curtain, into the steady stream of scorching water. Will came in after him as Grace pushed the door open.

Saturated, heavy clothes. Drops of water resting on skin. Heavy breathing as they pressed together in the confined space. Stifled giggles. Will's head was spinning. Happily. Jack grinned sheepishly, then broadly. Their fingers entwined, hidden behind the curtain. Secret. Safe.

Door closed. In the clear. Grace gone. Dodged a bullet.

Will saw that Jack was about to say something. His pouty, beautiful, soft lips slowly opened. To be silenced by Will's lips suddenly bearing down on his own. A gasp, as Will pressed Jack against the tiled wall. A shudder, as Jack overpowered him and the position switched. Will's whole body flamed and burned at being so close to him. He noticed how the water made Jack's shirt stick against him and Will ran his hands over the defined pecks and abs. Searching. Exploring. Feeling.

Smiles played on their wet, sore lips. Bright eyes bore into each other.

Will felt Jack's hands touch him, caressing his shoulders, back, torso. Soft hands gently lifting up the thin shirt that obstinately clung to Will's chest. This was the moment. The moment where they could stop now or go on with no looking back.

Trust.

Love.

Passion.

There was no turning back. Only forward. Always forward. They took it slower as each piece of clothing was stripped off of their wet bodies. Touches lingering on the new, vulnerable skin being exposed at each moment. For knowing one another for so long, Will was amazed at the intricacies of Jack's body. For every new piece of smooth skin revealed, Will devoured the smell, the taste, the feel. His whole being was charged, fireworks going off in his head, fire in his soul.

Gasps. Moans. Kisses. Licks. Caresses. Grabbing. Panting. Love. Release.

In these moments, truth is revealed. No secrets. No lies. Light. Bringing two people closer together than they would have ever thought imaginable. But no time for thinking. Or for potential consequences. Lust and passion overpower, and they succumb to their impulses. Over the edge…

A/N: Yeah, I'm a coward, so I short-handed the bit at the end. Too bad  More to come, kiddies. Oh, and, again, sorry for grammar mistakes. My tenses were all over the place.

Yeah, and this chappie isn't the best. I tried. I liked the first one better. But this one was… interesting. And lots of fun to write. Haha.


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: Will and Jack are the creations of Max Mutchnick and David Kohan. **

**A/N: I am so incredibly sorry for waiting over two months to update this. I kind of… erm… forgot about it. Sorry. Okay- short recap- our friends Jack and Will just got it on in the shower. Hee hee. And Grace is in the apartment. **

Jack's POV

I can still feel Will's warm breath on my skin and his soft touch. I am so exhilarated I can hardly breathe, but then I look into his face- at those chocolate brown eyes- and my heart beats wildly for an entirely different reason. Fear.

We are sitting on the cold tile, avoiding each others gaze, clothes sticking to our wet bodies. He's tracing his thumb over the crevices of the floor and I remember that same thumb trailing down my neck and my chest and my abdomen… only moments before.

How can he just sit there? I feel like I'm going to explode. From embarrassment. From this goddamn silence…

He licks his lips as he steals a glance in my direction and I want to kiss those lips so bad. But I don't, inexplicably. I'm not the one who makes the first move. Well, okay, I am. Many a guy have I made the move on… but not _Will. _Not my best friend.

He's the one who has always been there for me. Who has accepted me for who I am. He jokes about me but he's never cruel. And I love him for that. I really do.

I fell in love with him once. I fell hard- so hard I thought I'd never be able to stand again, once he rejected me. It took awhile, I admit. But I got over him. So then why did I just have sex with him- the man who I supposedly have no feelings for?

Why would I want Will anyway? He's booooring. He takes the fun out of everything. Not letting me have this or not letting me do that. He actually has the nerve to cut me off when we go to bars together. How the hell am I supposed to get that night's John in bed if I'm not loose? And instead of joining in the party he'd always sulk in the corner, watching me as I flirted with some random piece of gorgeousness.

Okay, so he was just protecting me. But I so do not need some lame babysitter. I only let him get away with it because he pays for everything. It's not like I _liked _him watching out for me. Not one bit.

Though, every once in awhile he relaxes and has a good time- mostly when it's just us two. I love it when he gets like that. When he loses all of his insecurities and reservations and just lets loose dancing or something. I adore his dancing. Dancing with him is like flying- or how I imagine how flying would be. Our movements match perfectly as he leads me around the floor and I feel my breath leaving in a delightful whoosh. And when we dance its like we're the only two people in the world. All I can see are those eyes and that smile, all I can feel are his hands lightly touching me, and all I can hear is his quick breathing as we glide together.

It's not like I _like _him though. No way. I just like dancing.

Will's POV

I like control. I like control and order and plans. But who could plan for a spontaneous romantic escapade in the shower with your best friend? What semblance of order is there when you're intoxicated with lust and things are moving too fast and he's touching and kissing you with hopeless abandon? And so what control do I have now? When I'm so unsure of myself?

I need to be in-charge. I am nothing if I'm not confident, intelligent, stoic Will.

And now I'm nothing. Because I'm a freaking mess. And all my control has been relinquished after I came while in my best friend's arms.

There is no order, there is no control. And I hate surprises.

Jack was most definitely a surprise. A shock to my craving body. It had been so long since the last time I had been with a guy. And Jack was… amazing. Skilled and teasing and… somehow intimate. He knew every spot that made me shiver and exactly when to take-over and when to let me lead. He knows me so incredibly well…

It's scary. It's fucking terrifying. _I _have always been the one in control. I'm the gardener in the relationship- I take care of him. So then why do I feel like I am giving myself up to him? Trusting him to take care of me? Giving away my heart to him…

I want this. So badly. But now- cross-legged on the linoleum- Jack bouncing nervously across from me- I don't know what to do. I'm at a loss.

I just hope to God that Jack is able to figure all this out. Because I have no idea.

Grace's POV

Will's been in the bathroom for an awful long time…

**A/N: Reviews are appreciated greatly!**


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: Will and Jack are the creations of Max Mutchnick and David Kohan. **

Will's POV

There is no clock in this four cornered hell-hole but in my mind it's ticking away. With each resonating tick I can see Jack's shoulders get tenser and knuckles drum louder on the floor. As every second passes by my face grows redder and I start sweating.

I can't take it anymore!

"We had sex."

Jack looks up with a startled face. He pauses and gestures, looking for something to explain what he's feeling. He settles with, "Um. Yeah."

More seconds tick by with agonizing slowness. His eyebrows knit together in confusion, waiting for me to talk. I tug on my ear and shuffle about, wanting him to start.

He suddenly smiles and sits up so he's on his knees, looking down at me. With a seductive look in his sparkling eyes he gives me a peck on the cheek. I give him a slow kiss on the mouth and run my hand over his smooth skin. I repeat myself, savoring the words. "We… had sex."

He nods his head against mine and grins. After another tantalizing kiss he gets up, gives me one last smile, and heads out.

It isn't until he's gone and I'm left by myself on the bathroom floor that I remember why we had been in the bathroom in the first place. Ah, shit. Grace.

She walks in with an incredulous expression stuck on her face. She looks behind her shoulder at a retreating Jack before resuming staring at me, stunned. "You…"

With little effort I stand and adjust my clothes. With a smirk, I say, "We had sex."

And left.

**A/N: Okay, short, I know. Please review!**


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer: Jack and Will are not of my creation.**

**A/N: This is a more serious story so obviously they won't be completely in-character, especially Jack. But I will try my best.**

Will's POV

Everything proceeds with such normalcy; it's incredibly disconcerting.

This major thing has just happened; it is occupying my whole mind; filling me. But my day goes by like all the ones preceding it.

My nerve-endings tingle and my heart thumps away happily – all I can do is think of him. I think of his touch and his taste and all I want to do is rush home and kiss him all over.

And then I get nervous. A weight seems to be on my chest and my breath hitches – I'm afraid. Self-consciousness seems to override my love and lust, and I find myself staying at the office later than normal. It is sunset when I leave; the world darkening quickly around me as I start home.

Up, up, up – the elevator takes me. I can almost feel his presence. My hands shake. I lick my lips in anticipation.

Ding. The doors open.

My legs refuse to move. I yell at them, but they are obstinate.

The elevator wants me out and grumbles at me to get a move on. The doors start to slide shut. My briefcase makes a narrow escape as I jump out.

I stare at Jack's door – wanting to knock. I wonder if he's home. If he's waiting for me in my apartment. Or maybe out with Karen.

Maybe he's on a date.

The thought flits across my mind, lingering long enough for my heart to start pounding. It would make sense though, right? It's a Friday night, Jack's unattached; why wouldn't he go out?

I lower my head and try to convince myself that yesterday was important. That to Jack it was more than just sex. That it wasn't a meaningless moment.

But another part of me doesn't believe it. The suspicious part tells me that Jack was taking pity; he doesn't care about me. He sleeps with multiple men a day – why would I stand out?

It was just sex. Just very hot, mind-blowing sex. But that's all.

He was probably feeling awkward about it now, I think. He didn't come by the office today because he was trying to figure out a way to let me down easy.

I love him so much though. I want to hope for more.

I am still standing in the middle of the hallway, equal distance between mine and Jack's doors. Stuck. Not knowing what to do.

Then, a voice floats around the corner of the hallway. It's happy and filled with Jack's inherent carefreeness. He's singing a song from Moulin Rouge, I think. A love song.

I smile to myself and join in, whispering in the direction of the voice. I remember going to see that with him. He sang nonstop for a week afterwards.

He's getting closer and I feel like hiding. With shaky hands I let myself into my apartment. I sigh and lean against the door.

My feet slip as the door starts to push open from the other side. "Will?"

He sounds more timid than usual. I blush as I step aside and we come face to face.

He grins. "Hey, lover-boy."

I stare into his dazzling eyes then downwards to the floor. He brushes past me into the kitchen and my skin fires up from the contact.

He takes a long drink of water, spilling some onto his shirt. Wiping his mouth with his arm, he starts talking about his day. He's so calm and I'm so incredibly jittery. I hate that.

He mentions the cute boy at the gym and jealousy flares inside of me. I'm angry and want to yell at him, tell him that he's mine and mine only. Then I catch myself, because he isn't mine. He was never mine. He can sleep with whomever he wants.

The smile that had been gracing his face starts to fall and his enthusiastic arms still. He looks at me curiously. "What's the matter with you?"

Jack's POV

Nervous energy has been ricocheting through my body all day. Not knowing what to do with myself, I have been running from one thing to the next. Always hyper and always obsessing.

About Will.

I wanted to see him so bad. I hadn't seen him since I left him on the bathroom floor last night. Oh, God. Every time I think about that a smile creeps across my face and my heart starts to pound and there are… tingles.

At lunch I practically skipped over to Will's office, but then stopped myself a block away. I don't know why but I became really self-conscious. I'm hardly ever like that.

I got my bearings though and felt relatively calm when I first greeted him at the door. But now his face has fallen and my heart drops with it.

What the hell did I do? We were doing fine. He was a bit quiet but he didn't look mad or anything.

I can't stand those sad eyes. I walk over and wrap my arms around him, squeezing tight. He's warm and I don't want to let go. He sighs into my neck and my heart soars. I rest my head on his shoulder.

Then the warmth is gone. I am cold and alone. Will avoids my gaze and moves as far away as possible.

I think that he's disgusted with me.

Will's POV

I haven't turned on the lights to the apartment yet and shadows cover the interior. Jack's eyes are dark.

I want to run away. His looks tear at me and I'm so angry at myself. Because he looks hurt. The last thing I want in the world is to hurt him!

It's better that I do this, though. Jack's too kind to break my heart. He never wanted me in the first place, so I should save myself further pain from ending this - whatever _this_ is - now.

A deep pain coils itself around me. But I am so sure that I'm right.

"Jack. About yesterday…"

He sees what I'm doing. His beautiful blue eyes widen in recognition of what's coming. I continue, "I think that it was a mist- "

"No!" Jack exclaims with a resolute face.

I gape at him. "What?"

"No. No, no, no. I'm not going to let you do this, Will." He crosses his arms defensively and pouts.

I bite my lip. "Why not?"

"I'm not going to let you make me feel bad about what happened. It was good – what we did. It was better than good. It was great, it was fantastic, it was freaking magnificent. But you'll ruin it all."

I'm offended by that. He doesn't have a very good track record either. "I will not!"

He rolls his eyes. "Yes, you will. Have you ever noticed how all your relationships have failed? You ruin them."

Fire shoots out of my eyes but I'm silent. I hate when he tries to analyze me. Because most of the time he's right.

His eyes soften and I can tell that he's not trying to be mean, just wants to get his point across. "Will…"

Words sputter out of me, a mess of insecurities and fears, things I had never planned to say out loud. "You don't want me, though. It was just sex to you and you have probably already moved on. You're my best friend and I don't want to lose what we have. So, just leave. Go out and meet a guy. Have sex with him and then move onto the next person, like you always do."

I am shocked at my own words. He's looking at me sadly. "You want me to leave?"

_No! Of course I don't want you to leave, you idiot! _

But it's for his own good. So I just nod my head, not daring to look into his judgmental gaze.

We're both rooted to the spot.

I hear the door open. A woman's voice registers in my mind. "Hey, guys. Did I interrupt something?"

Jack is so uncharacteristically serious it's scary. He gives me a last glance before coldly saying, "No, I was just leaving."

My eyes burn from unshed tears as I hear the door shut with a bang.

**A/N: Hm, anyone else think that this story has gone downhill since the first chapter? Oh, wells. Review, please!**


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: Apologies for my laziness. **

**Disclaimer: Will & Grace is the property of David Kohan and Max Mutchnik.**

Will's POV

Grace sits across from me on my bed, eyes concerned, waiting patiently. I avoid her gaze and she doesn't push me for answers. I don't need her to criticize my actions- I already know that I'm a complete idiot. But so many emotions are building up inside me, and I can't even begin to understand the situation. I want to defend my actions, to justify acting like a jerk, but there is this cold, little voice in my head telling me that I just destroyed what little hope I ever had of being with him. It told me that he would never speak to me again, that he had been right: I do ruin every relationship I have. It had been just a matter of time before I destroyed this one, too. I should've buried the feelings I had for him; I shouldn't have let this shift in our relationship come about. My hands turn into fists as I think of the look on his face as he left. It had been icy… the happiness that normally shone in his eyes gone. Because of me. "It's all my fault."

Grace sighs and holds my hand. It's a wonder to me how she can be so insane, and somewhat selfish, most of the time, but in the end she could be this compassionate. I don't want her to see me as this jackass who jerks around his friends, who breaks their hearts. I'd like to believe that she loves me unconditionally, and so I talk. My voice is surprisingly steady. I sound cynical and cold as I speak of what transpired between Jack and I. As my tale is told my overwhelming idiocy is revealed. I can see the insecurity that had influenced my actions. I am usually so logical, but in love I am at an utter loss.

I want to be one of those people that, when they are in pain, sob and complain and drown their sorrows in a night of crappy movies and chocolate. I want to grieve like Grace does. But I can't shed a single tear- I am not even granted that release. I can see my reflection in the mirror and resentment seeps into my expression. My anger consumes me, and that feels so much better than the guilt.

Grace's voice is so soft and I wonder if she knows how screwed up I am. "Will, it isn't over between you two. This was just a silly fight- he'll get over it."

I reject those calming words, I don't want my worries to be soothed, I want someone to yell at me and tell me that what I did was wrong, because it was. "You didn't see the look on his face. The hurt. _I _hurt him."

She seems to be exasperated with me and I share the sentiment, I am annoying _myself_ with all the self-pity. "It is human nature to hurt, but then you forgive and forget. You just won't seem to let him forgive you- you're not even trying to make amends."

I don't want to be dealing with this. I want to skip over the forgiveness and get to the forgetting. Time heals the deepest wounds, I think. And, in time, we should get back to normal, shouldn't we?

I feel enlightened by this thought. Grace is stubborn though, and refuses to believe that this idea resolves anything. She tells me to stop acting like a baby and go over to his apartment. I tell her I have some paperwork to do. She leaves and I sulk. I grumble about this and that as I take out some files. Everything is anally organized on my desk and the neatness calms me. I think to myself that everything is perfectly fine. I read the first word before my vision begins to blur. A single tear rolls down my cheek.

**A/N: Thanks for reading. Reviews make me happy!**


	7. Chapter 7

Disclaimer: Will & Grace is the property of David Kohan and Max Mutchnik.

Jack's POV

I thought that spending the day with Karen would make me feel better but instead it has just been annoying. Every half hour I hear "Poodle, what's the matter with you? You haven't complimented my new shirt, drooled over the hot waiter, or broke out into song once."

And every time I would paste on a fake smile and tell her that her outfit is fabulous, as usual; the waiter is hideous; and I'm saving my voice for a performance tonight. The fakeness is starting to bother me. I don't know how to not be myself- I'm not like Will. It makes me angry when he hides who he is. It's like this whole huge part of him is forever behind lock and key. He acts so superior, too, and I just want to tell him that this person… that he creates for himself… may be superior, but the real Will Truman is just like the rest of us. I've seen him at his weakest- vulnerable and afraid. I knew him before he rose to the top as a hot-shot lawyer. He is so smug, hiding behind his work, pretending that his life isn't a mess like mine.

I'm so angry at him… I want to hurt him. Because for once in his life he actually let me see him for who he was, without fear or shame. I was so proud of him, too. I was so happy that, after all these years, he was beginning to trust me.

Apparently not, though. He has withdrawn into himself once again and this time I don't think I'll be okay with that. For the past couple years I have felt like I've been playing a role that he has set out for me. That my words are scripted and he only sees me as he wants to see me. He likes to take care of me, I know. Sometimes, though, I think he needs to just let me go. He tells me to grow up, but he treats me like I'm incompetent. So what if I didn't go to a fancy Ivy League college and have a high-paying job? I'm happy with my life, and I can't say the same for him.

I just want him to be happy. I thought I could help him, but I seem to only be making things worse. I love him, but maybe I should just let him go.


	8. Chapter 8

**Disclaimer: Will & Grace is the property of Max Mutchnik and David Kohan.**

Will's POV

I dream of Jack almost every night. In one dream I am back in little league, swinging and missing miserably every pitch thrown to me. Then, Jack comes up to the plate and laughs at me, telling me to watch how it's done. He's grinning as the ball flies towards him at an insane speed, laughs as the wooden bat and ball collide, making a cracking sound. Home run. My teammates cheer and clap, carrying him on their shoulders. Then, it's only me and him. I find it funny that I imagine him as a little kid even though I didn't meet him until he was 16. He tells me that he's leaving forever and the little kid version of me starts to cry. He says that he's going to the big leagues now, and that I have to stay here. Then, with a laugh he disappears into the mist. And I'm alone.

He is constantly in my head, just reminding me of how good I had it before I screwed everything up. At work I find myself daydreaming about him. I can almost feel his soft lips, his smooth skin. It has not been a productive week for me.

I'm coming home from work, obsessing over him as usual, and I pretty much run over Jack and another guy. He's gorgeous too, which makes it that much worse. He has basically proven my point- he's left me and moved on to another guy. I _really _hadn't wanted him to prove my point.

My face is on fire through the whole horrible introductions. The guy's name is Jason, and he's a photographer. Jack introduces me as his _friend. _The funny thing is that we aren't even that anymore. We're nothing. I don't know if this Jason guy is his new boyfriend or just a one-time thing, but it doesn't matter to me either way. Jack could do what he wants, and, well, _who _he wants. Jack looks slightly hurt as I pretty much sprint into the building. I can't stand the awkwardness.

There's a knock on my door and I can predict who it is. I really don't want to answer it but I find myself crossing the room and looking through the peephole of the door. It's Jack. He looks so uncharacteristically sad, and I wonder how I have that much of an effect on him. His voice is strained. "Will, can you just open up. I'll just come back later, you know."

I unlatch the door and pull it open slowly. He glares at me before pushing past and making a beeline for the kitchen. I watch in fascination as he gets out a wine glass and fills it up halfway. I don't say a word; just wait to see what he does.

Instead of drinking it, as would be expected, he stomps back over to me and tosses it in my face! I sputter and wipe at my eyes. "J-Jack! What was that for?!"

He pouts at me, which makes him look completely adorable, actually. He pokes at my chest as he says, "You, William, are rude!"

Okay, that's true. I'm not going to admit it though. I slap away his hands which are still poking me. "Because I didn't make pleasantries with your new boy toy? Fine, _sorry_."

"Don't try sarcasm with me, Mr. Truman. You have completely tossed out the best friend handbook. You've barely even spoken to me in a week! I say hi to you in the hallway and you dart behind walls, you don't call me back. Basically, you've been a complete jerk!" He crosses his arms and raises his eyebrows at me, challenging me to refute that statement.

I don't want to argue, though, because he is absolutely right. "I know."

He gestures to me. "And…"

I reach out and touch his arm, pleading with my eyes. "I'm really sorry."

Time seems to stand still for a second. He looks like he's going to kiss me. Our bodies are so close (not close enough.) But then he pulls away. He opens the door, then turns back to face me. "Jason was just a friend, if you must know. If you have feelings for me…" He sighs. "Can you just make up your mind?"

He leaves and I am, once again, alone.

**A/N: Review and good thoughts will be sent your way!**


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N: Since I tend to not update this story for months at a time the style changes somewhat. As well as the POVs and tenses. Sorry, I hope it doesn't detract from the story too much. Also, thanks to everyone who has reviewed so far. I appreciate it!**

**Disclaimer: Will & Grace is the property of David Kohan and Max Mutchnik.**

Will's POV

Life is funny sometimes. In the sense that you can get so completely used to seeing somebody every day- hear their laugh, see their smile, knowing what they're thinking. And then they are gone and you are left stunned, wondering how you took so much for granted. He's not dead, but he might as well be.

I am bewildered by my own over-reaction to our 'break-up' (how can you break up when you were never together?) I hadn't known I relied on him so much. It's just… you can tell when he's gone. When he's there he fills up the room with his hyperactivity and chatter. He flips the world upside down, I think. Now things are so deathly quiet… dull. I hadn't thought my life was particularly exciting before, but now it has reached a new level of mundane.

The exhilarating love that I felt before is replaced with a dull ache. Guilt is a persistent parasite, eating away at me. Guilt is one of my least favorite emotions. I have the urge to do a single dramatic gesture of love that will make him weak in the knees and fall into my arms… but, I'm not all too certain that that sort of thing would even work on him. Sure, he loves those sappy romantic moments same as the next man, but he is just so damn stubborn. Once he is double-crossed… truly double-crossed, I mean… I'm not even sure there is a way back into his good-graces.

Above everything else, I just want him to be my friend again. He's been there by my side since I first came out and I don't want to lose that. And it's more than not wanting things to change or not wanting to lose that sense of security… I just love him; it's as simple as that.

I am thinking this as I walk down the hallway, towards my apartment. Jack's voice causes me to halt, though. I peer around the corner and my heart drops as I see him entangled in the limbs of another man. The other man is Jason, who was apparently worthy of my suspicion after all. _'Just a friend', my ass._

Jason has Jack pushed up against the door of his apartment, groping him and kissing his neck ferociously. Jack is laughing (nervously, in my opinion) and telling him to get off so he could get the door open. I am shaking from rage (regret) but, logically, I know he's not to blame. It's been weeks, for one thing. I'm remembering that fateful argument, so remarkably similar to the current situation. Maybe if I had done things differently he would be in my arms now instead of that 'boy toy's.'

I shake my head and try to clear my mind of all things Jack-related. Letting my breathing slow to non-hysterical levels, I turn the handle of my apartment door. I startle when I feel a warm hand on my shoulder, stopping me mid-turn. I whirl around. "Jack?"

I am confused (overjoyed) that he is out here with me instead of having hot sex with the gorgeous man in his apartment. He looks so nervous, he fidgets. His voice comes out in squeaks as he speaks, averting my gaze. "Hey, Will. I was kinda hoping you could help me out with a certain, little something…"

Is it bad that I feel so incredibly delighted that he has a problem? I love that he needs me. I _need _him to need me. "What is it?"

"Well… you know how I like 'em rough sometimes? Well, I think I may have gone overboard this time. This guy, Jason- you've met him before, he's sort of scaring me a little bit. I keep trying to get him to leave me alone, but he's starting to like stalk me. And not in the utterly adorable way I stalk Kevin Bacon and Cher, either. I think he's trying to kill me! Well, not kill me. But I'm scared anyway! So, could you be a dear and get rid of him for me?" Jack's words flee his mouth at an immeasurably fast pace and my mind tries to keep up.

Yet again, I find myself blind with rage, only overwhelmed by my concern for my best friend. Oh, I knew that guy was trouble the first time I laid eyes on him! I should've been protecting Jack, not sulking in my apartment. I'm not the kind of guy who goes around beating people up to defend someone's honor, and I am not wholly sure that I'm even able to- Jason's a big guy. But one look at Jack's pleading eyes and my confidence builds. If I can't fight for Jack, than I don't know what I can fight for.

I start to head across the hall, a resolute expression on my face. Jack has himself permanently affixed on my arm, gripping me tightly. It's strange to see him this afraid. This guy must really be getting to him. He whispers in my ear, "What are you going to do?"

What I want to do is go punch that guy's face in. But my skills tend to be in the legal area (fighting with words, rather than fists), so what I say to Jack (in a very reassuring tone) is, "I'll just mention to him, as kindly as possible, the legal ramifications of his actions. And if he doesn't listen… well, I'll call the cops. Don't worry, Jackie, I won't let this guy hurt you."

His eyes are so trusting that I just want to kiss him and forget about the world. But the world is waiting behind his door and, with Jack still clinging to me, I enter his apartment.

Creepy guy (as I have dubbed him) is turned away from me, staring intently at the head-shot Jack has of himself over the fire place. His muscles bulge out of his tight t-shirt and I'm starting to think that maybe we should have called back-up. Jack knows what I am thinking and gives me a reassuring squeeze, then let's me go.

Creepy guy finally notices me and hits me with a cold glare. He turns to Jack. "What's _he _doing here?"

When Jack doesn't say anything, Jason takes a few threatening paces forward. I step in between the two, bearing the full brunt of Jason's demanding stare. My protectiveness gives me an unlimited amount of confidence, and with not a bit of apprehension I give Jason a sarcastic smile and hold out my hand. "Hi. I'm Will Truman, Jack's lawyer. I am only going to say this once, so listen carefully, if you ever even breathe next to Jack again I will make sure that you get sent away to the worst prison New York has to offer. And I will be happy to get a restraining order to ensure this. Do I make myself clear?"

Jack whoops and comes out from behind me, scoffing at Creepy Guy and poking him in the chest. "Take that!"

Jason looks pissed though and I can see the veins popping out of his enormous neck. Uh-oh. I pull Jack behind me again and try to remain calm. Because right now Jason is giving me a look that says that he wants to rip my head off. And I am quite sure he is capable of that too. I keep my voice steady as I say, "Please leave now or I'm calling the cops."

He lets out this sort of strangled growl that is both frightening and somewhat amusing (come on, who _does _that?) before finally relenting. Jack opens the door for him and gestures for him to get going, an obnoxious smirk on his face. At the last second, though, Jason grabs him and pushes him up hard against the wall. Jack yelps and I run to help him. Jason is whispering something indecipherable in Jack's ear, but besides that doesn't seem to be doing anything to really harm him. Nonetheless, I put full force behind a punch that knocks him into the wall with a loud thud. I grimace and shake out my hand… punching someone _hurts. _Jason rubs at his head and lunges at me, but Jack sticks his foot out and instead Jason goes flying out into the hallway, his face hitting the carpet. I slam the door shut and the locks click reassuringly. We stare at each other, both breathing heavy. Jack finally lets out a harsh laugh and says, "Didn't know you had it in you, Will. I'm impressed."

I gaze into his vibrant blue eyes and all I can think of is how I will always be there to protect him.

**A/N: Thanks for reading. Apologies for any OOCness or grammar errors (I'm an idiot for attempting the present tense… it's killer to edit.) Review and you will have excellent karma!**


	10. Chapter 10

**Disclaimer: Jack and Will are the property of David Kohan and Max Mutchnik.**

Jack's POV

Ok, let me just say, knight-in-shining-armor Will is an incredible turn-on.

As my psychopath ex-lover goes flailing out the door my heart becomes all a flutter. And some very schoolgirlish thoughts come into my head, all about the wonderful Will, my hero, coming to rescue me. Then I mentally slap myself and try to regain my composure because Will is staring at me with a very odd expression. I laugh shakily and say, "Didn't know you had it in you, Will. I'm impressed."

God, my heart is beating so fast from leftover adrenaline. So many emotions are running through me that I don't even know where to begin to sort them out. I collapse on my couch and pull my knees up to my chest. I do love having Will be my protector, but needing a protector at all is starting to scare me a little bit.

My thoughts start going a mile a minute. What if Will hadn't been there? What if Jason hadn't been so compliant? Or, god, what if he comes back? My breathing becomes fast and I feel like I'm about to hyperventilate. I squeeze my eyes shut.

I hear the couch rustle as Will sits down next to me. He puts a comforting arm around me and I lean against him willingly, burying my head in his shoulder. He rubs slow circles on my back and I am soothed by his touch. As soon as I've calmed down I move away from his embrace. I smile at him, even though I know he can see through it. "Wow, Will, trying to cop a feel… at a time like this? For shame, Truman."

He lets out a half smile that doesn't quite make it to his sad eyes. His voice is low. "What did he say to you, Jack? Before he left… he whispered something to you that got you freaked out. What was it?"

I turn away from those sincere eyes and hide away behind the door of my fridge. I can't hide in there for long, obviously, since I don't _actually _have any food in it. I try to sound my usual carefree self, but it comes out too high-pitched to be believable. "That? Oh, nothing. Guy just can't get enough of me, I guess."

Will knows I'm lying, and I know he knows. But I will continue this charade because I am seriously afraid that if I think too hard about this that I'll never be able to leave my apartment again.

And then I think of how incredibly grateful I am to Will, for being there. For making my fears ebb, at least a little. The anger I've had towards him seems to disappear. The fact that he's been acting like a jerk, before tonight, is irrelevant. I walk over and wrap my arms around him. "Thanks, Will."

We stay like that for a long time, too long. He's shaking a little and I think that the adrenaline that has been coursing through my body has been leading an attack on him as well. I swear on the lovely diva Madonna that I will never call him a sissy ever again.

His sighs tickle my neck and he feels so warm… I never want to let go. Right now I am safe and happy and… I don't want to let this feeling go. Ever. However irrational that may be. If I have to tie him to my bed to make him stay then so be it… actually, that'd be kind of fun. _Kinky…_

My thoughts have traveled to some very bad places indeed (like what dominatrix outfit Will would look sexiest in) and my breaths have gone from being ragged from fear to quick gasps from the unmistakable feeling of lust that has shot through my body. Senses overwhelm me… the smell of his cologne, the soft material of his shirt, the rise and fall of his chest… and, I want to taste him. And I have never been one to control my impulses. So, I lay a quick kiss to his neck.

Really, it was very quick. I'm not one to take advantage of a well-meaning good Samaritan, saving me from that evil son-of-a-bitch (who right now I am trying to forget about.) But, for me anyway, one quick taste is not enough. I find myself taking many tastes as my lips travel up his neck. And my conniving tongue has even darted out a few times. He smells and tastes and _feels _like lust and sex to me… and I have always found that the best way of forgetting something bad is to get a hot piece of somebody and spend a night in blissful oblivion.

Am I taking advantage? Turning this pure moment of friendship and trust into another one of my sexcapades? Is that how Will is going to think of it? This moment was about our friendship finally healing from that one bout of insanity… and now I am starting the chaos once again.

But then, _oh…_ He starts to explore my body with his hands and my brain just seems to shut down. I'm not the kind of person to overanalyze something like sex… well, usually. I am overcome by wonderful sensations and I _god…_

Will apparently doesn't mind this new wave of events, as his hand has started fondling some…

Can't think. Only feel.

**A/N: Thanks for reading! Short, I know. But, by now, you have probably realized that this is an incredibly random story concerning length and updates. Please review! **


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